LEADERS IN LOUDNESS

San Francisco's Blue Cheer Keep It Cranked To The Max After Almost
Four Decades

In 1968, when San Francisco's hippie-dippy craze was still in full
bloom, it was a badass Bay Area band called Blue Cheer who let the
world know that not everybody was looking through the same
rose-coloured lenses. Preceding the nihilism and decibel levels which
would mark the sounds of the MC5 and the Stooges, already bubbling up
in Detroit, the sheer kerrang and ballast of Blue Cheer's cover of
Eddie Cochran's "Summertime Blues" quickly struck a chord with the
unwashed masses of the era, and helped put the danger back into rock 'n' roll.

Almost 40 years since its release, "Summertime Blues" has stood the
test of time and continues to be one of the most sonically dangerous
songs to sneak onto mainstream airwaves. After two incredible
records, Vincebus Eruptum and Outsideinside (both from 1968), Blue
Cheer lost their original guitarist Leigh Stevens and became steeped
in drug problems and label mismanagement, while their later records
were somewhat rudderless, reducing their once ferocious roar to a whimper.

After a few "heavy metal" misfires in the '90s, the band is back
(although still without Stevens) and a new legion of fans are just
now discovering the sheer power of the first two records. The Mirror
talked with bassist and singer Dickie Peterson through a bad
cell-phone connection while he was on tour.

Mirror: You have been called the seminal proto-punk band and the
forefathers of stoner rock. How does that make you feel?

Dickie Peterson: It means so much to us. When you're young, you don't
say you are going to create a typical sound. At that point, you're
just functioning. We knew we wanted our music to be physical, but
that was about the only plan, and I guess it translated well over
time. When we hear new bands like Dead Meadow, Nebula and others
talking about us, it just feels really good.

M: When you started out, you guys were really the black sheep of the
tie-dyed San Francisco scene of the late '60s. Are you still
comfortable about being outcasts?

DP: I could be accused of never really growing up, because I still
identify with the renegade and rebellion. The current state of my
country reminds me every day that I took the right side.

M: Why has volume always been a big part of the Blue Cheer sound?

DP: It's the only way you can get those overtones, which is a big
part of our music.

The inside dope

M: You were named after a batch of ['60s LSD kingpin Augustus Owsley
Stanley III]'s acid, but ironically it was drugs that became the
band's undoing.

DP: Well, I'll speak for myself and tell you I became a heroin addict
for a while. At the beginning we took a hell of a lot of acid, but I
think LSD has some psychological benefits for some people. When I was
young, they said if you took acid, you would kill yourself. I don't
know anybody who ever killed him or herself, loaded on acid. See, I
was lied to as a youth as far as drugs went. I was told if you smoked
marijuana, your life was destroyed. Didn't happen. I smoked pot and
thought it was great. They were telling us that war was great and
good and acid was bad--all lies. So I just thought the dangers of
heroin were also part of the lie. Drugs really became a problem when
we started messing around with powders. If you have kids, you can't
lie to them. It's the worst thing you can do, and from my experience,
heroin will turn into a real problem.

M: You played with legends like Cream and Hendrix, back in the '60s.
What were some of your favourite shows from those days?

DP: When Hendrix was on, it was just beautiful. Having said that,
some of the worst shows I have ever seen were Hendrix when he was out
of tune and fucked up on drugs. I saw some nights, though, where you
would swear Hendrix's feet just left the ground.

M: What would you say to the people that say Blue Cheer's heyday
ended in the '60s?

DP: We still provide a service and prove that life doesn't end at 30.
I've been doing this most of my life, and you give me any kid, any
kid, and I will rock him right to the floor. Everybody in Blue Cheer
feels the same way. We've been walking onstage for a long time, and
when we walk out there, we really know what we're doing--and we own that stage.

With Witch and the Mongrels at la Sala Rossa on Thursday, June 29, 9 p.m., $18